


To Be A Hero

by Xizuma



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, 天気の子 | Tenki no Ko | Weathering with You
Genre: Character Development, Drama, Experimental Fanfic pls don't hurt me, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, I mean... we have to make them different from Pete's Spidey right?, Kinda new to this whole Self-Insert thing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pizza time, SI/OC, Self-Insert, Sort-of Asshole Spider-Man, With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xizuma/pseuds/Xizuma
Summary: A Hero, what is a Hero? A hero leads by example, to show the light that's blocked from the darkness. To be a spark of hope that lives on despite the many that smolders it. A hero is someone who knows that with power, comes responsibility. An obligation to do what's right.Me... I'm not that kind of person. But I'll try my best, even if I'm still asking myself what it means to be a hero.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there.
> 
> How was your day? Mine was pretty average.
> 
> Weathering with you, however, is amazing.
> 
> Seriously, watch it if you haven't yet. It's got some really good visuals, probably some of the best I've seen. The characters are amazing; Hodaka, Hina, and most of all, my favorite, Mr. Suga. The guy's a blast lol.
> 
> Anyways, yes.
> 
> This is a Self-Insert story.
> 
> From what I understood according to a few friends of mine, Self-Insert stories are bad and should have never happened in the first place. A bit of a stretch, right? So that's why I'm here to...
> 
> Probably solidify their thoughts on Self-Insert stories lol. So I apologize in advance if this is bad.
> 
> To start, this is a collaboration with a friend over at Wattpad who goes by the name of Retr0Specs, who once went by the same name as mine, but has since changed it in order to avoid confusion. He does these kinds of stories. So I thought it would be a bit fun to try my hand out on making these stories and wrote this on a whim. Check out his account since I post chapters a bit earlier than here.
> 
> Maybe it's because Weathering With You was really good, maybe because I'm still sad Spidey's leaving the MCU. But those things combined made this so... take it as it is.

****

* * *

**TO BE A HERO**

* * *

_A Hero._

_What is a hero?_

_A hero is someone who leads by example, courageous sacrificing people, setting expectations and hopes for all of us. Everybody loves a hero, people line up for 'em, cheer for them, scream their names, and years later tell how they stood in the rain for hours just to get a glimpse of the_ _one who told them to... hold on a second longer._

_A hero is honest, gives the people strength, makes them noble. And finally gets us to die with pride. Even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the thing we want most, even our dreams. A hero knows the responsibility and weight of what it comes to being the savior of those weaker than them, the hopes and inspiration of people young and old._

_So who would have thought that some kid from Shinjuku would have what it takes to be a hero?_

_To answer your question... no, he doesn't._

_Fine, let's take backtrack from the beginning..._

* * *

Cardboard boxes were scrawled on in black broad felt-tip marker, bare walls devoid of the usual smiling framed faces or other pictures one would see at a normal home, clean and scrubbed wooden floors that barred no furniture spread, empty. White parcel labels stuck on black bags of clothes, as each thing is packed. A sliding glass window lead to the backyard that had neat, trimmed grass with no rebellious green poking from the ground. The rooms were all completely empty, ready to be lived in once more.

Within the doorframe, he stood. His black locks falling past his eyes and on his nose. The white polo and black sweater combo fit him nicely as his shoes squeaked against the floor, his youthful face set into a sour frown as he sighed despondently.

"(Forename)!" From the outside, a woman who bore familiar features to him called out. "Make sure you pack all your things and get a room already!" The woman-her mother reminded him. "Your father and I need to get the supplies he took from his and Doctor Conner's labratory from the moving van!"

"Got it, Mom!" (Forename) affirmed, rolling his eyes and grabbed the pack of clothes and tightened his grip on his bag and then proceeded to make his way to the upperlevel of their new home.

Moving houses was one thing, he thought. But moving countries, seriously? And why Japan of all places? America was perfectly fine! New York was fine!

But nope, now he's stuck here in Tokyo.

_'Could've at least told me a week in advance...' _(Forename) grumbled as he opened the knob of the room in the corner, and entered his new living space.

The old owners were at least kind enough to give a fairly decent sized bed, no sheets or blankets, a washstand, a bureau-without any mirror-and a small table. The wall was completely white and blank, _plain, _average.

(Forename) preferred it that way.

Haphazardly dropping his stuff on the floor, the contents of clothing spilled out but he ignored it as he sat down on the bed. It squeaked as the springs groaned under the pressure. Shuffling through his pocket, he turned on his phone and sighed.

He missed New York.

Sure, the place was overrun by rats, the trains always seemed to be crowded all the time, and the people don't even bother to pick up after themselves, but it was home, the entirety of his life and childhood was spent in the Big Apple.

Until now.

Everyone he knew was back there. His old neighbors, his friends, his classmates, sweet old May was back in Queens. The widowed woman was always nice and kind to him, alongside with her nephew and his wife Miss Watson-well, Missus Parker now, and he dearly missed them. Hell, he was even starting to miss Old Man Stan, the guy knew what kind of comic books he liked.

"You seem down, son."

From the doorway, his father looked at him in concern. His black glasses on his face and the white lab jacket he always seemed to wear folded around his arm. The bags under his eyes and the unusual wrinkled polo made (Forename) guilty, being so troubled with himself that he forgot his mom and dad were also on the same boat.

Oliver (Last-Name) sighed, ruffling his hair in thought. Approaching (Forename), the man sat down next to him, the mattress squeaking protest as he put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder.

Silence spread through the room.

After a few moments, (Forename) spoke up.

"Did... did we really have to move?"

Oliver exhaled through his nose. "Unfortunately, yes." He said, and watched as (Y/N)'s shoulder slumped. "I honestly would have said no, but... with everyone back at New York, they needed me here to help and it's my responsibility to help and monitor this branch's research since Curt was already handling things back." The father explained, but even Oliver himself knew that it didn't help the situation.

"I know it's been hard, (Forename)." Oliver said. "You're growing into a young man, but you need to understand that this has to be done," (Forename) looked away from his father's gaze. "Sometimes, my... _our _obligations and duties are more important than what we want to do, as much as I hate to admit it." Oliver muttered.

(Forename) stayed silent.

With a defeated sigh, his father stood up and patted his child on the shoulder. "Just... think of all of this as a fresh start."

Before he left, the man turned to look at the teen.

"Son, things change, be it for the good or bad; it's unavoidable. And... what I'm trying to say is it's our responsibility, our _duty _to be strong and do what's we think is right... even if it means that we have to do what's needed to be done in order to stay true to ourselves." Oliver advised.

A soft click, and the door was shut, leaving (Y/N) to his thoughts.

_Change._

_I didn't like change._

_Change was unpredictable in every turn. One's life could be turned for the best or for the worst on a whim. It could either bring good or bad to one by chance of luck. And I resented that with every fiber of my being... Yet, despite that, I knew that it was inevitable. So unavoidable and impending that I can never escape it no matter how much I want to, or how much I try._

_Didn't mean I had to like it, though._

Shaking his head, he stood up and made his way through the door and down the stairs.

"And where do you think you're going?" His mother asked him with a raised brow from the kitchen.

"Exploring! Be back in a bit!" (Forename) replied with a cheeky smile as he exited their new house with a sigh.

_'Alright, Tokyo. Let's see what you have to offer...'_

Tokyo was crowded.

Like, really crowded.

The high arching skyscrapers and tall buildings stood spread around city. The trains were far faster than the ones in New York but the overall feel and atmosphere that the bustling people and cars reminded him of New York.

Except here in this city, he didn't know a damn thing about Tokyo.

The streets and paths were both familiar and unfamiliar to him. Nevertheless, he sucked it up, grew a pair, and made his way through the city.

Despite his familiarity with the Urban Jungle, Tokyo was still different from New York and (Forename) couldn't help but feel like some sort of lost child as he wandered aimlessly around Shinjuku. He couldn't tell how many times he had bumped against the crowd or went to a dead end, it was both confusing and embarrassing.

_God, I felt like a runaway._

Thankfully by the first week (Forename) had managed to memorize and familiarize himself with the routes and streets surrounding his house.

By the third, they all had finished moving in and purchasing any needed furniture to complete their new home.

Then by the fifth, his father had officially been moved to his company's Tokyo branch by the choice of the CEO.

Which was where he and his father were currently at.

As soon as they exited the car, (Forename) was immdiately taken in, awe and wonder filling him as he stared at the tall and big building in front of him. He was actually in an advance science center, home of technology so advanced, they were not seen anywhere else.

While not as studious as his mother or prodigal like his father, (Forename) had taken a liking to the subject of science. As expected since he was raised in a family whose father was one. Though often times the teen was either too busy or lazy to put more effort in learning more.

His father chuckled behind him as he laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Welcome to Tokyo's Science Center. This is where I, and other passionate people make great discoveries- " Oliver began.

"Which we work on to improve how people live their lives." (Forename) finished with a roll of the eyes. "You said the same thing back at New York, Dad." He told him as his father chuckled, scratching his chin.

"Did I?" Oliver shook his head. "I'm not that predictable, right?"

(Y/N) gave him a flat stare.

With an awkward laugh, his father led him to the door.

"How about I show you around?"

As expected from such a high ranking tech company such as the one his father worked in, the facilities and rooms were all state-of-the-art and up to date with the world's latest technology.

White walls and sleek equipment was organized orderly and efficiently. Glass windows displayed various researchers and their respective works to the outside.

(Y/N) whistled in appreciation as he followed his father through the building and one of the rooms.

"And this is where I work." His father grinned as the sliding door opened to give them entrance.

Larger than the other rooms he had seen, the work stations were spread around the space. Screens filled with visuals of various DNA of many animals and the like. One table in particular, had a glass tank that had spiders crawling along the walls.

"Currently, our lab is studying a new experiment." His father spoke as they entered. "One involving a rather tricky subject which is-"

"Cross-Species Genetics, right?" (Forename) interrupted once more, causing his father stare at him in surprise. Before giving (Y/N) a raised eyebrow.

Yes... how did you know that?" His father asked.

"Um... internet?" His son answered. "The web knows all, Dad. And you kinda leave your journal on the table every single night so..."

"And you understood it?"

"Kinda?" (Forename) shrugged. "Mister Connors' work was on Cross-Species genetics just like you. It's like, um, being able to transfer animal or of any species' DNA into another lifeform." He said, scratching his head. "It's kinda like the old chimera story, right?"

"Well... you know the gist of it at least." His father chuckled. "As of now, we're looking to discover the secrets hidden in the animal kingdom, and reproduce certain genetic attributes."

Leading his son to a work station which had a display of a particular looking skeleton of a fish.

"Take for example, the zebrafish." He gestured to it. "Say, a man get's Parkinsons. That disease kills the brain cells that produce dopamine slowly. Tragic fate, isn't it?"

His father gave a grimace, until he gained a hopeful twinkle in his eye. "But imagine the possibilities if we are able to take the zebrafish's regenerative capabilities, if we are able to somehow give that to the man..."

"... then he could naturally cure himself with said fish's regenerative cells." (Forename) finished, his father nodded.

"It's our goal for this project, Curt and I worked a long time to take it where it is." The man said, fondly looking at his research displayed around the lab. "And now with a full team dedicated to work with me here in Tokyo, we could finally make that breakthrough in science!"

"Mister (Last-Name)?" A woman in a lab-coat asked as she approached them, giving the father and son duo a polite smile. "Mister Osborne wants to see you at his office."

"Norman's here?" Oliver muttered in confusion before shaking his head. "I see, I'll be right there, thank you." With a nod, the woman left. Oliver turned to his son.

"Well, I was just bringing you here to help you get familiarized with what we do here, but it seems Mister Osborne has other plans." His father sighed. "Feel free to roam this place and ask around,_ but don't disturb anyone, or anything._" He gave his son a critical eye as (Forename) rolled his eyes.

"I'm not some delinquent, Dad." (Forename) assured offhandedly only for Oliver to chuckle.

"What about the time you got in a fight in school?"

(Y/N) flushed in embarrassment.

"...'S not like I'm gonna start one here..." The teen mumbled sourly as his mind recalled the memory. And even now he regretted it. Especially since he wasn't particularly on the physical side of the spectrum.

With his father leaving, (Forename) stood there in the middle of the room awkwardly.

_'Might as well just walk around... I guess.'_

_So what's should a teenager do in highly sophisticated technological science center with nothing to do? Sit down, grab a snack and just wait for their dad to come back, right?_

(Y/N) looked around in confusion and slight nervousness as he stood in front of a door.

_Well... I didn't get the memo._

The hallway was completely empty, sans for him, the walls that were once white and sleek was not black and uninviting as always. The door in front of him having a very bold 'RESTRICTED AREA' right on the side with a scanner and password lock for security.

"Yeah, this is definitely not the way to the bathroom..." With a heel turn, (Forename) barely managed to take one step when he heard voices coming from within the door.

With speed he, himself didn't know about, he hurriedly ran and rounded a corner just in time as the door hissed open as workers in hazmat suits came out of the room in a hurry, turning and heading the other direction he had went.

A relieved sigh escaped him, he leaned against the wall as the footsteps grew more distant. _'Idiot.' _(Forename)berated himself within his mind as his hand lightly smacked his face. _'You're an idiot! Couldn't have just asked for directions now, can we?'_

Taking one last look ahead of him and deeming it safe, (Y/N) stood and up and began to-

"Ah!"

With a small hiss of pain, (Forename) held his right hand up.

A spider.

A freaky looking spider.

Small bouts of pain began coursing through his body as he gritted his teeth. Swiping with his other hand, he swatted the spider away and sent it flying. He didn't care where, he just hoped it died. Maybe he could just slip away and hide in the lobby room or someth-

A blare of red lights flashed from walls, and (Y/N) groaned in discomfort. Forget hiding, he needed to find his dad.

Standing up shakily, he ran towards the exit of the corridor, nearly tripping in the process as the pain from the bite started to grow and increasingly became more difficult to focus.

He pushed past the crowds as some gave him looks at his odd behavior. Though he didn't much care for that right now, the pain in his arm was starting to hurt more and more. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he idly brushed it off with the sleeve of his sweater. He was shaking now and felt sick more than ever.

It didn't help that almost every noise and sound he heard rang and echoed in his ears loudly. The chattering of those distant to him were heard perfectly, the slight buzz of machinery within the room next to him was clear as day and he even heard the swinging of doors from across the area.

(Forename) held his head in pain. His sense were overwhelming him, and he felt nauseated to the point where he could barely stand up.

Around him the people whispered.

_"Is he okay?"_

_"What's wrong with him?"_

More and more the crowd whispered and gossiped as (Y/N) gritted his teeth in pain.

_'Shutupjustshutupandletmefocus-!'_

A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Kid." The voice of the security guard called out in concern. "You alright?"

(Forename) blinked and he nodded his head almost drunkenly.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... alrighi-"

His eyes rolled back into his head and he felt his body sway forward.

The last thing he heard were gasps of the crowd before he passed out.

* * *

_And that's how it started._

_I was out for three weeks. Three weeks! Can you believe that? Just because of a bite from one measly spider?_

_... At least, I thought it was a normal spider._

_Then it started happening._

_I got out of the hospital pretty quickly after a bit of a check-up. My mother fussed over me and my father kept on seeing if anything happened to me._

_He was right. Unfortunately._

_I started changing._

_You know what I'm talking about, don't you?_

_My body felt heavier, healthier even. My senses were dialed up to eleven. I could see things that were hard to look at, even by just glancing at it, I could lift things that I found heavy in the past. Hell, I even ran faster started the wall crawling. The sixth sense, the strength, speed... all of these changes overwhelmed me, it startled me..._

_It scared me._

_My father's words rang in my head._

_ **"It's our responsibility, our duty to be strong and do what's we think is right."** _

_My dad had this philosophy of his._

_**"A duty. That if you had the ability to help**_ _**people, to do good things for the world, then you had a moral obligation to do those those things! To do what's right... that's what's at stake...**_

_ **"Not choice, (Y/N)...** _

_ **"Responsibility."** _

_Responsibility._

_ **My responsibility.** _

_While I like a fair share of comics, I never really got to indulge in that hobby, except for a few times which was a rarity. But in the time spent reading what little I could of these superhereoes, I knew what I had to do... what I'm obligated to do now that I had these..._

_Not gifts. I'm not calling them gifts. If anything they're a curse, a lesson on what I have to do, what I have to sacrifice to do what I'm obligated to do._

_To do the right thing._

_To do the responsible thing._

_ **I hated it.** _

_Every second of it._

_All of these things that spider had dumped into me was a constant reminder that I can never live a normal life. That I can never live the life I want._

_I never wanted this, _ _ **any ** _ _of this._

_Why couldn't that spider bite_ _someone else more reliable, more capable and suitable than some run-of-the-mill teenager? Why not some big-shot billionaire with time on their hands instead of him?_

_Why me?_

* * *

Two months.

It had been two months since the incident.

And in those two months (Y/N) had been at a loss on what to do with his newfound abilities.

He didn't want this. He just wanted a normal life, live as an average joe, work at an acceptable job and make ends make.

He never wanted to be a hero.

He wasn't fit to be a hero.

But throughout that span of time, his morality, the words and lesson his father had taught him since he was a child ate up at him, enticing him.

Guiltily reminding him what he had do to.

So he decided.

He would try.

This was his responsibility, no matter how much he hated it.

Within those two months he had tested his powers.

Which was why he had picked the junkyard. It was a perfect place to test his limits. It was abandoned, empty and no one ever dared go there.

As expected, he was faster, stronger, and more durable. All upped to twenty. His speed was incredible, he had ran at least twenty miles in under three minutes one time and was even able to balance himself on a pole with only a finger.

He even developed a some sort of signal in his mind. Doing some studying on human psychology and the brain, he found out it was like a sixth sense, like an "Early Warning" sign in his brain that let him know there was trouble heading his way before it happened.

It was like a primal instinct.

He was basically superhuman. He was more than the average joe now.

And it only made his situation more appalling.

Opening his wardrobe doors, his hands scurried past the articles of clothing occupying the lowermost shelf hastily, throwing his old shirts and jeans onto the floor carelessly.

His eyes gleamed when his hands felt a solid object and proceeded to pull it out of the shadows.

He smiled fondly at his old water shooters his dad had made him years ago. The two wrist bracers was too small for his arms and the years had not been kind to it.

With scuffed painting, missing pieces such as the containers, and triggers that used to fit on the center of his palms, it was broken.

To others, it was a piece of junk.

To him, it was like reuniting with an old friend.

Setting it aside, (Forename) stood up, and fished out the old chemistry set from within the basement, his father's welding tools, and placed it all on his desk.

It was time to get to work.

_It took some time. But after weeks of tinkering, many, many short circuiting and remodling, I managed to re-engineer my old bracers and create and attach a high pressure_d system that manages to shoot a line of webbing.

_I took a page out of Oscorp and created artifical silk made out of shear-thinning liquid, that when in contact with the air, the long-chain polymer knits and forms an extremely tough, flexible fiber with extraordinary adhesive properties._

_Pretty impressive, right?_

_I hope so._

_The next thing to do was make a costume to hide my identity._

_And no, I'm not gonna wear spandex. So I started small and modernish. And after many papers and ideas, I picked out the __**initial **__design before I got better material. And after many money spent and a few hours of knitting, I came up with something_.

Taking a look for himself in the mirror, from the bottom up, (Forename) wore simple red and black sneakers that held and stuck firmly to his person with loose webbing. He wore a blue tracksuit that hugged his figure but was still loose and baggy enough for him.

A red belt outfitted with pouches that held spare web fluid clasped around his waist. Half of his upper body and forearms were spray painted red with black lines representing webs wrapping around the red areas. Right in the middle of his chest displayed a black spider, and a larger red spider on the back.

Wanting to keep his identity a secret, he had opted to wear a simple red mask with the same web motif, and added detachable goggles.

"Oh, I look ridiculous..." (Forename) muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. He hoped the mask wouldn't flatten his hair to the point it looked like something from the Beetles, he liked his hair free, thank you very much.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror and grabbed his a black jacket and brought it over his tracksuit, and zipped it up to his neck, then shoved his mask into his jacket pocket.

He slowly opened his door and peeked outside of his room.

"Mom?!" He called out. "Dad?"

Silence.

Exiting his bedroom, he flattened his spray-painted tracksuit and made sure his wrist-shooters-web-shooters!-didn't slip off accidentally. Turning it over, he grabbed the cartridges on his desk and slipped them on his bracers, a soft click indicating it had been attached.

He had tried this before over the course of the week, but each time he was stopped. Either by his parents, the weather, or by luck. It was his fifth attempt in trying to use his web-shooters.

"Alright... let's do this."

* * *

The crowds bustled around Tokyo, (Forename) shoved his hands in his pockets and put the hood down as he navigated the streets by intersection and aromas. His memory of where to go and which route to take. He moved along in the thick crowd. Beneficially, the bite had gave him a few inches of height, letting him see bright shop signs, and buildings more easily than he had done in the past.

He pushed past and jostled against people more than he had liked. The fragrance and aroma of the city was familiar to him, only now he could smell nearly everything around him. Fumes from belching vehicles underpinned everything, but punching right out of it would be the spicy offerings of the street vendors, coming sharply into focus like a camera zoom and then ebbing away again; only to be replaced by the next vendor and the next.

His ears picked up on conversations from the people walking alongside of him. By the distance, he could even hear the swinging of the door and each individual footsteps of every men and women in his vicinity, but he had gotten used to it.

Surprisingly, the train was early, far more earlier than expected. And now he had seen up-close the sleek, white advanced transportation. Quickly, he stepped in, and raucous, metallic shriek echoed around him as the sleek, metal carriage, shot forward and into the next platform. Metal-on-metal grinded against each other as he held on to the pole with minimal effort, knowing how much damage he could do if he accidentally gripped it a bit too hard.

Shortly after, the doors opened up with a slight hiss and he stepped out, rushing as he did and through the people quickly as the sky had become a dark grey hours earlier. The rain had fallen steadily without let up since before he exited the train. He idly glanced tree leaves, the summer flowers and lilies droop under the weight of the droplets as a heavy downpour hit the city.

He shivered slightly. Enhanced abilities or not, the chill still affected him and he tried to remedy that as he brought his arms closer to his body for warmth while the people around him proceeded to get our their umbrellas or standby a shade. The rain bore down mercilessly upon the rest of the city, pounding on the rooftops and turning the streets of Shinjuku into a warren of slick stones and muddy waters.

Walking hastily, he pushed forward, the rain hitting his jacket and staining his hood. With nothing to shield him from the pouring, he had opted to speed up his pace and jogged in the rain, the small pellets of water spitting on his arms as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorating the asphalt. Through one of the pools of rainwater, the familiar flash of police sirens are brought to my attention. He manage to lift his head up just a bit and stared at the white and black car zooming past him in a hurry.

(Forename) shook his head.

_'Focus.'_

* * *

He swung open the door to the roof-top.

The coldness of the slate tile and it's dampness seeped through his jacket and into his tracksuit. In this poor light the roof-tops spread in every direction like great grey serpents with rectangular scales. The varying sizes of the buildings ruined the illusion, but in this light they were just as monochromatic as everything else, the slate, the swirling smog, the streets that were never deserted, the unfriendly sky with it's dense cloud robbing him of the sunrise. From here he could see what a maze Tokyo actually was, every house three stories and each joined to the next. The streets curved as if laid down on a whim a few centuries ago before anyone had conceived of a grid pattern idea.

He made a quick turn and headed to the edge of the building, sticking one hand to the wall, then the other, then his legs, before he fully pushed against the windows of the business building.

(Y/N) sucked a deep breath as he slipped on the mask, it was a good, if not a bit tight fit, the goggles were secured around his face, and with his enhanced senses, seeing was not a problem. Up here he was the king of the world, untouchable. But he didn't feel untouchable, he felt vulnerable, as if a slight sway of wind would knock him over and send him plummeting to the ground. Even with his new powers he still hadn't gotten over his fear of heights. Above here, the people below looked like ants and the cars merely flashes of light.

Doubt seeped into him.

Once again fear had managed to find him at his most critical, it always did. It spoke to him in its cackling voice. It told his legs to go weak, his stomach to lurch and his heart to ache. Why risk everything and his life just to save people he didn't know? Strangers? Why show himself to the public as some sort of hero flying through the air, when in reality, he wasn't?

Yes. That was what he was.

He was no hero.

So why do all this?

_"To do what's right... that's what's at stake... Not choice, (Forename)..."_

"Responsibility." He exhaled through his nose. Repeating the word over and over again like a mantra.

He huddled up his knees pushing against his chest.

Then he let go.

The small areas his hand held contact with broke easily, the glass shards falling with him as he unexpectedly somersaulted through the air.

Then he began to fall.

Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Suspended in the air, he closed his and slowed his breathing, he turned to face the dark sky above and pushed the triggers on his shooter. Immediately, the artificial silk shot out like a bullet, and he watched with intensity and worry as the line of webbing reached out to the building.

A tug, and he widened his eyes.

And then (Forename) pulled.

_Then he flew._

Lightning struck.

The weather took another turn for the worse as the rain increased in volume and intensity.

But he didn't care.

Energy had flooded his system, pumping his blood that coursed through his veins with vigor. He briefly thought for a moment that his heart would explode as his eyes widened in fear as he swung through the city.

He screamed in fear and excitement as he pushed the triggers once more and took a different direction.

He swooped down, down towards the streets rapidly, and then snapped upward in an arc, before he fired another line of web midswing, caught another building and continued his journey. Slowly, he had began to ease in to it, never slowing, moving with an ease and defiance of gravity that would have turned most-experienced acrobats green.

He leapt onto a nearby flagpole, swinging around it by using it as an anchor to build up speed, then released, his momentum carrying him onto the rooftop of the next building. Wasting no time, he vaulted over the pipelines and ran straight to the edge and fired another webline.

His was heart pumping, head spinning, lungs bursting and body screaming for more... Every muscle craves relaxation as blood courses miles of veins and a pulse sounds in his ears... ba-boom, ba-boom. It's a glimpse of heaven for a few seconds. He loved it.

Wait.

What do you call this again?

Oh yeah, adrenaline.

Boldness took over him, he flipped and jumped, wall running on panes of glasses, laughing silently at the awe-struck look on people inside the office and onlookers faces as he leaped and shot another web, rounding a corner, taking in the usual sights and sounds of the city while he swung once more.

He gave a shout of joy as he shot one more webbing towards a skyscraper, pulling himself quickly, he ran vertically up the walls of the tall building.

Finally, he leaped as he neared the final floor of the tower, and landed on one of the gargoyles that were perched on each corner.

(Forename) panted, catching his breath as the adrenaline worn off. He grabbed the hem of his mask and pulled it off. His hair, sweaty and moist as the rain pelted down on his exposed face, but it was the least of his worries as he gave out a laugh, one of irony.

How ironic.

All this time, he doubted himself, scared his courage away, and convinced himself that he couldn't do it. Beat it over his head that this was just part of change and an _un_lucky turn of events that he had no control over.

He didn't believe in destiny.

But now, he realized.

The adrenaline he felt, the frenzy, the rapid beating of his heart. His grace, if one could call it that, and his quick grasping of swinging through the air.

_This was his destiny._

Now matter how much he tried to run away from it for the past few months, how much he went back and forth with himself over this dilemma, this was how it was going to be for the rest of his life.

"A fresh start..." He recalled his father's words.

A new chapter in his life.

_'Then so be it.'_

The rain poured harder than before.

He would face his destiny, no matter how much he hated it.

He would be the hero.

Even if he still believed he wasn't one.

* * *


	2. Meetings

* * *

** TO BE A HERO **

* * *

** _ "For the past month, reports have surfaced on recent decline of crime in Tokyo, statistics have been revealed that--" _ **

** _ "Residents around Shinjuku said to have seen a man crawling up the walls of their buildings--" _ **

_ "**...And in our latest news, witnesses has claimed that an unknown masked figure was seen exiting Nihombashi Mitsukoshi in Chuo,** **after stopping four armed suspects attempting to rob the establishment. Other sources have said to have seen the same masked man swinging through Shinjuku--"** _

** _ "--The media, and the internet has since nicknamed the vigilante as 'Spider-Man', Tokyo's new hero who was seen numerous times foiling burglaries and crimes alike for the past month or so--" _ **

** _ "The 'Spider-Man' as residents of Tokyo said, is an urban myth that has risen to popularity recently--" _ **

Click.

The television screen went blank and the thumb that had been pressing down on the remote placed it down on the coffee table as the viewer spun her chair and faced another which held a laptop with a excited glint in her eye.

She opened the device and immediately began typing as the door opened.

"Finally got out of your smoke break?" 

The man shut the door and narrowed his eyes at her as he set down the grocery bag with a huff, dragging a cigarette out of his mouth as he did so.

"Hey, I don't judge any of your hobbies, so don't go nagging at me with mine." He countered with a scrutinizing look as the woman rolled her eyes. "I already get enough of that from Moka's grandmother." The man muttered, sitting on the couch and turning on the television.

Spinning her chair, she stopped to face the man's back. 

"Well, maybe she has a point, Keisuke." She shot back.

Keisuke scoffed, grabbing the remote and turned the television on, raising an eyebrow when the news channel displayed a blurry photo of a man hanging by a rope attached to a building.

"Seriously? They're still reporting on this guy?" Keisuke shook his head, chuckling in amusement and disappointment. "God, since when has news been about these freaky wakados, loonies, and false speculations?"

With an offended gasp, the man turned to see her glaring at him. "First of all, _you of all people _don't get to talk since you run a magazine about the supernatural and other-worldly." She raised one finger. "Second, Spider-Man _is _real and he saves people, multiple sources have seen him in action." She huffed. "Honestly, Keisuke."

The man stared at her blankly, before snorting. "Believe what you want to believe, Natsumi. I only run this magazine because it's all about the money, you're the one who likes these weirdos, oh beloved niece of mine." He said flatly as he downed a can of beer.

With another huff, Natsumi gave up and turned away from her uncle and back to her laptop. Idly glancing at the scattered photos of her current person of interest she began typing a new article for the magazine.

After a few minutes, the woman nodded in satisfaction, Natsumi looked at the opening paragraph happily.

_ 'Tokyo police have gone on record on disapproving the act of the hero. Citing it as vigilantism and abuse of law, much to the media and most of the city's citizen's disagreement and protest. However despite transgressions from the boys in blue and bystanders, the question still remains on everybody's minds... _

_ Who is, the Spider-Man?' _

* * *

"Spider-Man..." Oliver rose an eyebrow as he looked at the newspaper with intrigue. His wife, Mary, perked up at the mention of the name as she sat down next to him.

"The new hero, yes?" Mary asked. "My coworkers in the hospital were talking about him. Yui even mentioned that she was saved from a mugging last Thursday because of him." She mentioned as Oliver gave a grunt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing much, it's just..." Her husband shook his head as his eyes scanned over the article covering the masked figure. "Spider-Man, this vigilante. I mean this guy zips around Tokyo once a day saving people without expecting anything in return while covering his face." The father recalled.

Mary nodded. "It's sort of... inspiring and sad, don't you think?" She commented, causing Oliver to raise an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"This young man, who does his best to make the world a better place, without any expectation or reward, is inspiring, but what made him lead this sort of life? What is his goal? His motivations? Surely someone must have had something that happened in their life to recklessly risk their life, and breaking the law, for a stranger." Mary shook her head in disapproval. "He has his heart in the right intentions but the way he does it is all wrong."

"Maybe so," Oliver nodded in agreement with Mary's words. "But _is_ he really doing anything wrong? Sure, he breaks a few laws, but he's ultimately doing something for the greater good."

"I'm just saying that just because one punches harder, jumps a little higher, should not get away with what should be the police's work." Mary huffed. "I like for what he stands for, but breaking 'a few' laws?" She finger-quoted her husband.

Oliver sighed. "Does it really matter? Honey, we need to stop thinking about legal and illegal, and start thinking about right and wrong." He countered. "If one has the power and responsibility to to the right thing, then they should, regardless of the law." He said, sticking firmly to his beliefs.

Mary sighed.

"Your morals are gonna kill you one day, I swear." She muttered as she faced the television and proceeded to turn it on.

** _ "For those just tuning in, it's seven in the evening on June 13th, 2021. And now we turn to our weatherman Haruto Tanaka. Haruto, please tell me we it's going to be a peaceful and silent night, this evening? _ **

** _ "Sorry, Izou, but we've got heavy rains not only expected later tonight, but for the rest of the week!" _ **

A grimace befell Mary's face. "The weather these days hasn't been letting up during the past few months." She remarked, worry gracing her features as she turned to her husband. "Has (Forename) called yet?"

Oliver stopped his reading, setting the newspaper down and shook his head. "Not since he went out after lunch, no." He answered. "Maybe he's out with some friends?"

"He has been going out of the house recently, nearly everyday even..." Mary recalled, before shaking her head. "I just hope he isn't going with the wrong crowds." She mumbled. 

Tokyo during the nights was not as safe as she liked it to be. Most recently, the police had been finding discarded weaponry in trash bins located around areas in the city presumably by the rising gang that had been steadily making it into the news headlines. While she trusted her son, she hoped he didn't do anything stupid while out in the city.

* * *

"Man, didn't school teach you that it's not cool to do drugs?"

He was just in the process of stopping an illegal drug exchange between some shady men, and a bunch of teens in a back alley around one of the poorer parts of Tokyo, specifaclly in Yanaka, around the Taito ward.

It was a bit strange to him. For the past month, all he had been fighting were wannabe thugs and robbers who were probably middle-aged or in their late thirties. He was no stranger to teens his age being just as bad, of course, he still remembered the times he had been bullied by his seniors, how they humiliated and embarrassed him with no reason but for fun.

He absolutely hated it. 

And now, with his abilities, he could hit back, just as hard.

Most of the men were already down. However, he still had to deal with the more stubborn few who refused to give up. He sighed. One of the teens, not much younger than himself, had decided to pick up a pipe, facing him.

The kid had the gall to think he had a chance to have a go at him.

That was just plain stupid, it was almost laughable. 

"Seriously?" He regarded his fellow teen with a flat stare behind his mask.

To the kid's credit, the smaller teen pulled up a threatening face. The boy circled around the masked teen, practically bouncing on his toes, ready to attack. He swung the pipe with what would have been impressive strength if he'd been up against a normal human, but (Forename) just caught it with his hand and wrenched it from the boy's grip, before shooting several globs of webbing to attach him to the wall behind him. He then shot one to cover his mouth when he started shouting obscenities.

The vigilante chuckled, approaching him and patted his face. "Calm down there, junior." He said with a condescending tone in his voice. "You kiss your mother with that mou--"

_ Behind you! _

His spider-sense went off, and he turned around just in time to block a punch to the head from another teen, and several more that followed, as the teen seemed to be on a desperate adrenaline rush to take him down.

(Forename) actually laughed. "That all you got?" He mocked.

Was he being a bit arrogant? 

Probably.

A quick punch to the jaw knocked the assaulting teen out cold right before another one jumped on his back and tried to strangle him. He quickly threw him off and webbed both of them up.

"Alright, so we done here or wha--"

Before he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

(Forename) hissed a bit as he held his arm. A fresh cut, that tore through his tracksuit and into his flesh. Blood dripped lazily as the vigilante looked up at the last teen. 

With speed, he slammed the culprit into the wall with an arm over his chest.

"You're paying for that." He growled. Irritation and a slight bit of genuine anger found in his tone.

The boy gasped in terror, dropping the knife one of the previous boys had used with a clatter, and started panting in scattered breaths, panic seizing him up, his eyes wide with horror as he helplessly tried to cower away from the vigilante.

"Please! Please, please don't hurt me please. I'm sorry! Please!" He all out screamed, turning his head to the side, avoiding eye contact with the older teen, frightened tears beginning to fall from his blue eyes.

(Forename) stopped instantly, mid punch, staring at the boy in front of him who was about thirteen/fourteen years of age, surprised by the reaction.

Sighing, the teen approached the panicking boy. 

"Are you going to hurt me?" The younger teen asked, his voice wavering.

The masked vigilante rolled his eyes. "No." He answered flatly. "You looked like you just pissed your pants, that's enough for me." He snarked, a bit of bite in his tone as he said that, the boy flinched in return as he looked down.

(Forename) hefted the teen with ease, and carefully webbed him up on the wall.

"Don't do something stupid like that again," He warned the trapped boy. "Or else."

The boy didn't knew whether it was about the drug exchange or the wound the vigilante had got thanks to him. The older teen seemed equally annoyed by both so the boy just nodded slowly.

"Good." The masked teen placed his arms akimbo before turning around. "I've already dialed the police to tell your mommy and daddy you did an opsie along with your friends, so sit tight and shut your mouth." He said.

Lazily waving at the younger boy, the vigilante began his exit out of the alleyway. "Because by then your out of my hands. Thank god." He muttered the last part.

Yeah, (Forename) admit that he was a bit mean-spirited, but no could blame him for it! It was just so annoying to deal with these kinds of immature idiots all the time, it was tiring, and repetitive. 

He was rude to the kid, so what? Big whoop. Kid deserved it anyway.

* * *

(Forename) slumped in the armchair and threw his phone on the table. He rubbed his half-lidded eyes with the inside of his palm as he gave out a groan.

Tired.

He was so tired. 

Who knew being a vigilante was exhausting?

Couldn't the fine folks of the city quit killing each other for a night?

He needed to eat.

So, what was he doing now?

Well, Pizza Hut seemed to look so reassuring after a rather rough day of fighting.

Every night and day was a tussle of conflict. He had been awake since three in the morning and had not stopped ever since then. The past month had been sneaking out of the house, hope to god that he remembered filling up his web cartridges, try not to get hit by a stray bird while swinging, and dealing with some wannabe thugs every few hour or so. Rinse and repeat, that was his daily routine now.

Stopping burglaries and robberies were a bit easier than expected. Dodging gunfire was a bit tricky in the start, but he had gotten the hang of it. His movement was natural and swift, he was quick on his feet and ended the fight pretty fast. It was all natural to him, it was like second nature. Of course, there was a few mishaps here and there, but he could confidently say that it was all good.

Honestly, he still didn't get why people ran to him for photos. Who wants to get shots about some dude in a tracksuit? And why did they always have to thank him? It was just the right thing to do.

He didn't need, nor want, any recognition or praise from this. In fact, he was annoyed by it. But he couldn't really blame them. He was just... indifferent to their compliments and gratitude. He did his job, fulfilled his duties.

That was it. He'd done his responsibilities. Would it matter on how he acted to those he had saved? No, definitely not. There was nothing to it. 

Grabbing his phone once more, he went through police frequency he managed to tap into, and checked for any major crimes.

A car running the red light?

He was sure the police could handle that one.

Speeding car?

Nah.

With a groan, (Forename) let his head drop as his phone clattered back on the table.

"It sucks being the smartest guy in the room..." He muttered offhandedly as his eyes drooped slowly. While he knew that what he did was by far, the most stupidest things he had done, he knew that it was too late to back out. 

Another voice in his head told him, if he just go home and back in bed, the longer he'd lie in that bed the more chance of sleep he would have and the better tomorrow will be. Maybe the police could handle just one night without Spider-Man?

Yeah... sleep sounded so good right--

"Excuse me?"

Almost immediately, (Forename)'s head jolted upward, letting him know he briefly fell asleep. His eyes grow wider than usual and took on a wild look as he scanned for new signs of danger. For a few seconds he felt confused, unsure of where he was, then it all came back to him--

_ He was still in a pizzeria. _

A giggle came from the employee, and he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"S-Sorry." He stuttered apologetically. "It's just been a busy night..."

"I'll say," She agreed as she gently set the small pan filled with pizza on his table. 

She gave him a teasing smile.

"Hope you cheer up, Mister 'Smartest guy in the room'!" She said with a small chuckle. (Forename) felt his ears going red as his cheeks tinted pink once more.

(Forename) sputtered, before groaning. "So you heard that..." 

With a playful shake of the head, the girl turned and began to walk back to the kitchen. 

Trying to ignore the embarrassment, he focused on his meal.

There was nothing better than the pizza. While it was no Pizza Amigos. Pizza Hut was still a rather good replacement. The base was the perfect combination of light inside and crunchy on the bottom. The toppings were fresh and fragrant. Just the right thing to eat after a night of crime.

With that, he dug in.

* * *

A satisfied sigh came out of his mouth as (Forename) patted his stomach.

Pizza was definitely a good choice of a meal. Truly one of the best dishes that were ever invented. Though he did gave himself a reminder to rationalize how to spend his allowance.

Money was used for fixing his stuff, mostly sewing tools, cloth, and spare equipment for his tracksuit, and a few tools to fix his bracers. Not to mention buying materials, and manufacturing artificial silk for his web-shooters.

Those things weren't cheap.

However, he needed to stop using his father's own chemical mediums and equipment. It was bad enough that the teen was nearly found out had he not come up with a quick, not to mention lame, excuse. 

His formula for his webbing was not perfect. It was quick to dissolve and sometimes incompatible with his shooters which made swinging through the city a much harder task than he remembered. Luckily, if he could just the right chemical compounds, he could--

"Ah!"

"Whoops." The teen looked down at the person he bumped into. It was a kid, a few years younger than him, judging by the standard issue school polo and slacks, he was in elementary at best. With an apologetic look, he outstretched his hand towards him. "Sorry about tha--"

"Nagi-kun!"

A young girl, wearing a uniform identical to the boy, had ran over to them and knelt down to check up on the kid--Nagi!--in haste and gently hefted him up with care. "Are you okay?" She asked, before switching her gaze and glaring at the teen in front of them.

"Watch where you're going, jerk!"

(Forename) blinked.

"That was uncalled for..." He muttered, before shaking his head. "Look I'm sorry for bumping into your friend, is that what you want to hear?"

"Sorry won't heal any bruise Nagi-kun might get." The girl huffed, and (Forename) felt his eye twitch.

With a small sigh of annoyance, the teen shot back. "Well maybe your precious Nagi-kun should watch where he's going." He remarked in irritation.

Was he seriously arguing with an elementary student?

Yes. Yes, he was.

"It's okay, Aya-chan." Nagi reassured her, before he gave a small nod to him. "I apologize for bumping into you too, stranger-san." He said, as (Forename) shrugged, Nagi turned to Aya. "I'm sure this was all just a misunderstanding." He squeezed her hand, giving her a charming smile.

The girl blushed, "If you say so..." She conceded as they began to walk away, a dreamy look on her face. As they walked past him, she turned and gave stuck her tongue out to him in a mocking expression.

(Forename) stared at the pair, before he shook his head.

Rude little brat.

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he took a detour from the sidewalk and proceeded to make his way through the alley, flipping through metal fences with eases, and avoiding coming into contact with stray cats, people, and most of all, walls.

His nose still felt sore. That was the last time he was going to try web swinging in an narrowed alleyway.

With the slightest of effort he began running at a high speed, taking sharp turns from street to street, barely breaking a sweat and not panting in the least as the rain drizzled down on the city. He didn't mind it, it was the least of his concern right now.

Out of a whim, he had managed to find this run down building by chance. He had began using it as a resting place of sorts. No one would find him there, and people would least suspect the Spider-Man using this as a napping place. It was the perfect hideout, of sorts, he regularly napped there from time to time when he had nothing to do. 

Glancing from left, to right, he made sure no one was looking, then discreetly made his way into the building.

Stepping into the old factory building was like stepping into a whole other world. It was like venturing onto a set of old train tracks and following them as far as they'd take you. Well, ignoring the grass peeking up between the slats and the bits where the metal was rusted and broken. The building seemed to shudder in the wind and sway as the rain attacked it.

He pulled down his hood. The building was empty, but for a few obsolete pieces of rusted factory equipment, pieces that seemed perfectly at home within the building's vine-covered walls. Just as it had been outside, the inside looked like something out of a dystopian movie, the corrugated walls as rusted and useless as the equipment they housed. Beams stretched high overhead, and rain dripped down through cracks in the ceiling.

He stepped further into the building, looking around as he left wet footprints on the floor in his wake. His hands trailed along the old beams. 

He looked up where a huge hole had been made. Aiming, he pressed the triggers on his palms, and watched as the webbing flew from the nozzle and attached itself to the metal beams poking out of the concrete slabs.

With a grunt, he pulled, and launched himself onto the air, landing on the third floor with a wet splat from his shoes coming in contact with the floor.

Heading to the edge, he proceeded through the creaky and rusted metal stairs built onto the side and made his way to the rooftop.

Like the rest of the building, the rooftop's metal bars and containers were rusted and degrading. Shrubbery and green grass grew within the cracks of the tiled flooring, overtaking the sides and even enveloping some of the bars.

A single red torii gate sat at the corner of the rooftop.

Unusually, it looked rather well-maintained compared to the rest of the building.

Idly picking up a piece of debris, he threw it over his shoulder. It sailed over the air, flying over the edge of the building, and dunking into the open dumpster on the other side of the building. Putting his journal in his bag, he stood up.

Clapping his hands of crumbs and dirt, he stretched a bit. Just then, his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw who was the caller and answered it.

"What's up, Mom?...Eggs and milk? Okay I'll get them. Love you too."

He set his bag down, and started removing his jacket, shivering slightly from the breezy chill of the evening. Grabbing the hem of his pants, he pulled it down with one hand, the other inside the bag and getting his costume.

He quickly put on his spray painted track suit, and webbed his shoes to his pants. Then ran a hand over his hear before putting on his mask.

He grabbed his bag and threw it. He aimed at it, and with a quick press, his bag was snatched from mid air and stuck onto the side of a crate nearby.

Carefully, he perched himself on the edge of the building and took his phone out and scanned the police frequency.

Now to wait.

* * *

Darkened gray smudges of wool threateningly surrounded the sky; like a predator would encircle its prey. A startling low rumble rang loud in the cool fall air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires, barricading everything in its way.

Despite the angry weather this night, he proceeded with his plan.

It was an easy job, really. Steal a car and sell it. What was so hard about it? An easy, looking one sat right there at the parking lot, unattended and unguarded.

Quickly, the man opened the door with ease after messing around with it for a few moments. Glancing from left to right for any bystanders that happened to look his way.

Shutting it, he put one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the plastic cover on the steering column. Lightly hitting it, the plastic protection broke free and swung down, revealing the wires hidden within. A grin settled on his face, and he began to--

"Ahem."

Jolting in shock, the man let out a small shriek as he jumped, hitting the top of his head on the roof of the car. Snapping his head back so fast he thought he nearly gave himself whiplash, his eyes landed on the figure _he swore to god was not there_ moments earlier.

"Hey there bud," The owner of the voice began lazily, muffled slightly by the mask. "I'm a bit tuckered out right now and frankly, I want sleep so I'll skip the foreplay. For future reference, when you try to steal cars, how about not dressing like some kind of criminal, yeah?" He advised, only to be met with silence.

"Y-You a cop?" He managed to find his voice.

"Seriously?" The masked figure flatly said. "You really think I'm a cop? A cop in a tracksuit and goggles, you're not one of the brightest bunch are ya?" 

The man stared at him with a confused look on his face before his eyes trailed down to the figure's chest and widened upon the sight of the spider symbol.

Backing up as close as he can to the door, the man's hands found the door knob and pulled it. To his relief, the door had swung open and he proceeded to make his way out of the car--

_ Thwip! _

The car door slammed shut courtesy of a line of a white rope and the thief screamed in alarm.

"Where you goin?" His fellow intruder asked. "We were just talking--" He didn't listen to the figure ramble on as he tried to open the door once more and--

_ Thwip! _

The door shut again.

The thief growled and swung it more forcefully for the third time.

_ Thwip! _

"Dude--"

_ Thwip! _

"Stop--"

_ Thwip! _

"Trying--"

_ Thwip! _

"Already."

His boiling point reached and his fear gone, the man screamed in frustration and anger, then shoved his whole body against the door, forcefully swinging it upon and landed on the wet asphalt roughly. He glanced back at the car and--

No one was there.

He stood up shakily, looking around him--

"Incoming!"

The thief screamed once more as a pair of legs wrapped around him and he was thrown onto the ground. Quickly shoving his hand to his pocket, he took out his weapon as he stood up and flipped the knife open.

"Just let me go." The man warned.

To his surprise, the red and blue figure recoiled in shock and began to raise his hands up in defense as he lowered himself.

"I-Is that a knife?" The figure asked. "Is that a real knife?" 

"Y...Yes it's a real knife." The thief smirked, his confidence returning.

"My weakness," The teen bemoaned. "It's small knives!"

"Just let me go--"

"Anything but knives!"

With a shout, the man suddenly found the hand holding his prized possession stuck to the wall by the same thing that the figure used to close the car door. He struggled, looking back and forth from his hand to the red and blue wearing teenager.

"W-What the hell is this?" The thief stuttered as panic started to seize him.

"Oh, you know... artificial silk... webbing..." The teen drawled. "Trust me..."

_ Thwip! _

Another one flew from his wrist, and ensnared the man's other hand.

"You don't wanna know." The vigilante said. "Alright time to call the cops and be done with this so I can head to bed--"

_ Thwip! _

The man wheezed in pain when he took a shot of a ball of webbing right in the crotch. "What the hell man!?"

"Sorry, sorry!" The teen apologized, twisting his arm as he inspected his bracers. "My web-shooters are kinda new so there's a few kinks--"

_ Thwip! _

"...Whoops."

A muffled scream rang out of the parking lot.

With a hiss of pity, the teen approached the man whose mouth was now tasting a whole ball of silk. "Just let me..." Grabbing the man by the chin, he struck the small webbing that covered his nostrils. The thief breathed in air desperately.

Sirens filled the air, the vigilante turned around just in time to see a police motorcycle pull up before them.

"...And here comes the boys in blue."

"Freeze!" The man said, whipping out a gun and aiming at the teen. "You in the tracksuit, don't move!"

The masked figure raised his hands in the air. "You serious?" He asked the officer in disbelief.

"Who are you?" The police questioned.

Dropping his arms, the teen let out an exaggerated groan, turning to look at the thief. "No seems to grasp the concept of the mask--"

"Freeze!" 

Bullets flew.

The vigilante leaned to the side immediately, dodging the gunfire with ease. Swiftly, he flipped over the officer and grabbed the pistol out of the man's hands midair, landing on the other side, pistol in hand.

Grabbing it by the barrel, he raised it to the officer who raised his hands in surrender.

The teen scowled behind his mask. "I just did eighty-percent of your job, huh, and this, this, is how you repay me?" He asked, throwing the gun to the side.

The officer was at a loss of words.

Scoffing, the vigilante turned around just as more sirens blared. Running towards a lamppost, he jumped, and used it as a stepping stone and shot out a line of webbing, swinging away.

* * *

_ "(Forename)?" _

One knock.

_ "(Forename)?" _

Another knock.

_ "(Forename), it's time to get up!" _

A third knock, this one louder than the previous.

With a groan, (Forename) rose from his slumber with half lidded eyes.

_ "(Forename)? Can I come in?" _ The voice of his mother rang through the door.

Just as he was about to answer, realization struck him, and his eyes glanced at his body. 

_ He was still wearing his costume. _

"No!" He exclaimed. Webbing the door, he yanked off his mask as the rattle of the door knob continued. Grabbing the collar of his tracksuit, he desperately attempted out of his vigilante clothes. "Give me a second, Mom! I'll get the door!" He yelled, sticking to the wall that his bed hugged as he pulled his costume. "Just--Just give me a second!"

The knocking continued. 

_ "(Forename)?" _

"Just a sec!" He hung from the ceiling by his foot as he managed to successfully remove his pouch. He yelped when he lost his footing, and ended up crashing on the floor with a thud just as he got his jacket off.

_ "What was that?"  _ His mother asked.

"It's nothing! It's nothing!" (Forename) assured her as he finally kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his pants. Rushing to his wardrobe, he shoved his costume in the closet and grabbed a simple hoodie and pants.

That was the moment his mother opened the door.

She stared at his son as he gave a nervous grin, her brow raised in curiosity. 

* * *

"Oh, come on! Mom! Do I have to?"

Mary shook her head as she sipped her morning coffee. As the news said, light rain drizzled down as the sun came to rise up.

"(Forename), you are getting a part-time job and you will like it."

Her son groaned in annoyance.

"But--"

"No buts." She interrupted him, setting her coffee down as she leveled a stern look at the teen. "(Forename), your father and I have noticed you've been spending your allowance too much, and so, we may have to cut you back. So from now on, you're getting you're money from getting a job."

She smiled at him.

"Doesn't that sound fun?"

"No." He flatly told her. "And besides, what self-respecting establishment that abides by the law would ever hire a minor?" The teen sarcastically added, his mother rolled his eyes at him.

"Don't worry, your father and I found one." She assured him. "Do you remember Mister Suga."

"Hm..." (Forename) tapped his chin in thought. "Let's see... tall guy, black hair, doesn't look like he shaved in a week, pretty shady looking, and smells like cigarettes half the time?" He recalled.

Mary sighed at her son's... creative description. "Yes. Him." She nodded, "Apparently, the small editorial he runs is a bit short of staff. You're father talked to him, and he agreed in letting you work for him."

"And I have no say in this whatsoever?" (Forename) sighed.

"Yes." Mary nodded. "Now go, your job starts today and he's expecting you."

"Ugh. Fine." The teen relented. He stood up from his chair, eating his last slice of toast as he grabbed an umbrella. "For the record, I don't like this." He remarked.

"Have a nice day, Sweetie." Mary smiled at him.

Grumbling, (Forename) exited the house.

* * *

"So you're the kid, eh?" Keisuke looked him over with a stare,(Forename) scratched his cheek, shifting in the seat provided by the older man as they sat in his office, which also seemed to double as his home.

Shortly after the teen found the man's house, which was just a few good blocks away from his, the man had rather been easy going than he had expected, inviting him over with a friendly chuckled. (Forename) noticed that the man often looked grumpy every time he saw him around the streets.

With a shrug, Keisuke chuckled and pat him on the shoulder. "Ah, what the hell? Alright you're in, part time jobs are the best thing a kid your age can get." He told him as he stood up. "I'll have you help Natsumi around for the most part as a reporter, she likes going around and asking stories about weirdos anyway." 

"They're real, and you know it." His niece huffed from her spot on the kitchen counter. A confused look crossed (Forename)'s face.

"Stories about weirdos?" He asked. 

Keisuke nodded, "Yup." Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he opened it. "Spirits, aliens... you know, the supernatural and the conspiracy theories." He said, jugging the liquid as he did. "At first we were investigating about the rumors of some kind of Sunshine Girl running around. Y'know, weather maidens who can control the elements or other crap people say." 

With a satisfied gasp, he set the beer down. "But know, we got this other wacka-doodle swinging around the city. You probably heard of him, have you?" He gave a pointed look at the teen.

"...Spider-Man?" (Forename) supplied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that weirdo." Keisuke nodded. "He's been sweeping out news channels and online articles for the past month, and I thought of jumping on the bandwagon to get more revenue." The man said. "So picture this headline..." He started.

He waved his hand on one side to the other as he spoke.

"Spider-Man: Hero, or Menace?" Keisuke chuckled at his title.

Natsumi glared at her uncle. "Spider-Man's not a menace, Keisuke. He's a hero, he saves lives." She argued. 

(Forename) found himself agreeing with her.

Keisuke rolled his eyes. "Saves lives--that's what the police are for." He scoffed. "The title will attract people. Hell, if we could even get shots of the guy we'd get an exclusive but so far, nobody's gotten a decent of photo of him so we're focusing on the Sunshine Girl rumor for now."

"That's where I come in." Natsumi spoke up. "We go around and scoop up information or any leads on the story." She informed. "And now with you here, it'll be twice as fast!" The girl said with a smirk.

"So I follow your lead--hey!" (Forename) asked as Natsumi dragged him to the exit.

"Basically." She nodded. "Alright then, new intern..." Natsumi looked at (Forename) with a gleam in her eyes.

"Ready to find yourself a Sunshine Girl?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was decent enough to fit with other good Self-Inserts.
> 
> A warning now, this story will be mainly romance, action is still a part of it, but will be merely treated as a side-thing. So don't expect much.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts. Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Ciao.


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